Cullen blinked at the painted walls around him. It was Skyhold's atrium, covered in the mosiacs Solas had created so carefully. "How did we get to Skyhold?" he asked.

"We didn't," said Solas. "It's merely a familiar place."

The walls undulated slightly, like flags in the wind. Cole reached out and grazed one with a finger, and it parted briefly before snapping into shape.

Cullen's mouth went dry. "So this isn't real. Is this the Fade?"

"No," said Cole. "The Fade is real. You cannot touch a shadow, but it exists all the same. This is a reflection of a shadow, built by a ghost."

"A ghost better forgotten," said Solas with a frown. "But it's where we need to be."

The only furniture in the room was Solas's desk, and the elf crossed to it swiftly to try the drawers, muttering to himself. Cole drifted alongside Cullen and spoke again. "Where would you hide something that you would not wish to be found, Cullen Rutherford?"

He frowned. "Somewhere only I knew."

"But if you know it, then it's able to be known by others. Minds are not as closed as humans would believe," said Cole sadly.

"Then a place only I can access."

"Better, another layer of secrets, but still too weak. Locks without keys can still be broken."

"Then where?" asked Cullen.

Cole smiled. "You hide it nowhere. A place that isn't, until you need it to be," he said. "The elves loved secrets." He looked up at the rippling paintings in silence once more.

"So this is an Elvhen place. A hidden place, like the Eluvian courtyard Morrigan talked about. Except we didn't go through an Eluvian. But we're here now," said Cullen, walking the path patiently in his mind. "If Elgar'nan hid this thing somewhere that doesn't exist until he needs it, we shouldn't be able to find this place without him."

"Would you hide your secrets from your wife?" asked Cole.

Cullen froze. Solas glanced over at them but said nothing before going back to searching.

"No," said Cullen eventually. "I have no secrets from her."

"Nor did Elgar'nan from Mythal," said Cole. "That doomed him, drained him, destroyed him. But it will save Ellana now."

Solas slammed his hands on the desk and growled. "Not if I can't find it. Where is it?" he asked, but he didn't appear to expect an answer from either of his companions. He clenched his fists and seemed to argue with himself as they watched.

Or perhaps not with himself. A woman's voice came faintly over them, like voices from the library drifting through the atrium in the real Skyhold. "The Wolf prevents its discovery, as I warned you."

Was that Ellana? It didn't sound like her. Some ancient Elvhen ghost trapped in this place? Cullen looked around him, crouched in battle position almost unconsciously before he realized his sword was gone. Not that one would work, probably, in a place that was a reflection of a shadow. And it didn't matter, because there was no one there but the three of them. The voice was just a voice.

"Use the Templar," it said.

Solas turned towards Cullen with a predatory look, and Cullen stepped back instinctively, pressing against the fabric of the walls. It felt cold and clammy on his exposed skin, like a sweat-drenched shirt put on after it had cooled, and he shuddered. Solas didn't seem to care. He was advancing on Cullen when another voice stopped him short.

"Or use the mage."

The second voice was familiar, reedy and pompous, with an air of superiority that made the hackles on Cullen's neck rise as he turned. Vestalus stood in a new hole in the wall, and even as they watched the room melted into a new shape. Dmitri's palace faded in around them, white gleaming columns and Nevarran paintings appearing in the air. It was like falling into a dream backwards, and the vertigo twisted Cullen's stomach painfully.

Vestalus seemed unaffected. "Fascinating," he said, strolling the perimeter and running his hands across the moist web of unreality in wonder. "It finds a place we can all envision. Your kind were truly inventive, if foolhardy. I appreciate the aid in unlocking this place, Solas. Or do you prefer Fen'Harel here?"

Solas snarled and glowed briefly as a wave of power rushed through the room. Vestalus held up a hand, and it flowed around him harmlessly. He chuckled without humor. "Please. This is the seat of Justice. A defense against betrayal, for those who know how to use it. And Nevarra knows it very well," he said. "I've always thought Elgar'nan would have appreciated my country."

The elf's expression didn't change, but his eyes sparkled with deadly humor. "Elgar'nan was a tyrant who would have killed one of your kind for daring to speak his name."

The Mortalitasi shrugged and changed the subject. "I'm rather disappointed in you. The feared Dread Wolf, nothing more than an easily manipulated elf. We've searched for you for years, you know. My brethren coveted the wisdom of the last of the great souls to walk Thedas. Well, except the archdemons, I suppose, but we've never found any way to communicate with the darkspawn. Not coherently."

"What do you mean by great souls?" asked Cullen, but neither man even looked at him.

"Did you think we didn't feel you cross through the Veil all those years ago?" Vestalus continued. "You disrupted several of our more delicate experiments and released untold numbers of spirits into the Fade before they were ready. The balance of a god is weighty indeed."

"I never desired godhood," said Solas. "I only wanted my people to be free to choose their own destiny."

"Clearly a choice they weren't ready for," said Vestalus. "Regardless, you hid yourself well. There were whispers of activity, hints of your power in the Breach, rumors of a magister returned to ally with his old friend, but nothing solid. Nothing real. Some of my fellows suspected the Inquisitor of harboring your soul, but she is far too pacifistic. Too foolish and weak to be great."

Solas's fists clenched, Cullen hissed a breath, and Cole spun a shifting dagger through his fingers with a dangerous look. Vestalus only raised his eyebrows.

"I was starting to believe you'd fled the world entirely after your failure to tear it apart and rebuild it in your image. Imagine my surprise when you invited me to Cumberland. A mage of unusual power, here, in Nevarra. And with a wolf's tooth talisman, worn so prominently. Did you really think I wouldn't know?" Vestalus laughed and began circling again. "Such arrogance. You chose your host very well, Fen'Harel. And those clumsy attempts to probe my mind with that," he added, waving at Cole. "I recognize a spirit when it stands next to me. A Mortalitasi is not so easily misled."

Cole seemed to shrink as the Nevarran stared at him. "Compassion," he said. "Another weak ally. But you've changed it, haven't you? No longer reacting but asserting itself into the world. You're twisting its power to your own ends. The cunning of the Wolf infects us all, if he's allowed to run free."

"I help," whispered Cole.

"Ah, but who do you help, little spirit?" asked Vestalus in a voice that was almost kind. "You should have stayed in the next world."

Solas folded his arms. "You sound like the Father."

Vestalus grinned suddenly. "And why shouldn't I? He's shown me in my dreams who I can be for this world. The Inquisition solved a problem only to create a new one that will swallow us all. But not while I stand here. You've unlocked the door, just as he predicted, just as I expected. Justice will be returned to us all in this perfect moment."

"Elgar'nan is dust."

"Even dust makes patterns, for those who can read them. The great souls never die," said Vestalus. "Yes, his soul is too scattered to ever return. Only flickers of power and will remain for me. But his talisman will bring the rest." The mage reached into a cabinet that sprang into existence at a gesture. He drew out a necklace made of pure gold with a pendant shaped like a scale dangling from the end. It gleamed dully but had a weight to it that marked it as truth. Not just a reflection but the reality inside of it.

Cullen didn't hesitate. The mage's wanderings had brought him close to hand, and he lunged to capture the man in his arms. Vestalus squeaked, surprised, and Cullen grabbed at the necklace while he brought a forearm across the other man's windpipe. Vestalus struggled and wheezed in his grip, but Cullen held on grimly. He didn't want to kill anyone, but Cassandra hated this man. Feared him. His crimes were great and unprovable, and his death would be the justice he seemed to value so much.

Cole keened and shuddered as the mage's struggles weakened, and Cullen might well have choked the life out of him completely if Vestalus hadn't sent a burst of power through his arm directly to Cullen's heart. He stumbled back, gasping and coughing to reassure himself that he was still alive, and Vestalus whirled around with coughs of his own. The necklace still dangled from his hand, and Solas hissed annoyance.

"You want this?" asked Vestalus in a hoarse voice that nevertheless held a note of incredulity. "What good could it possibly do you, brute of a soldier?"

Cullen's heart was still galloping, wild like a stallion with the bit in its teeth. His vision greyed as he fought to stay conscious. "Save the Inquisitor," he muttered with his hand to his head. "Hold the power of the anchor."

The Mortalitasi laughed, an unending wave of mirth that filled the room. Cullen blinked it back into his vision and saw Solas watching the swinging talisman like a cat. Except he's a wolf inside, thought Cullen muzzily.

But the thought fled as Vestalus's laughter subsided into hacking coughs. "Did he tell you that?" he asked. "And you believed him? I thought my niece would at least choose an intelligent man in her rebellion." He looked Cullen up and down with a curled lip. "Very disappointing to think she wasted both her life and her heart on brawn alone."

Cullen glared and readied a defense of Cassandra, but Vestalus continued without stopping. "This talisman doesn't hold power. It holds a soul. And once I wear it, and it locks Fen'Harel's soul inside of me, Thedas will know an immortal reign the likes of which hasn't been seen since Arlathan."

Solas's eyebrows raised slightly. "And you intend to do this how? You lack the power to force me to do anything, human. And the Fade is a far reach from this place. You've already used what little magic you have," he said. A staff crackled into the air in front of him. "I, on the other hand, have only begun."

"Then why not take this from me?" asked Vestalus, swinging the chain slightly. He smiled when Solas frowned. "You can't touch it here, can you? Elgar'nan's wisdom was great even when his heart was too kind. He trusted you before you betrayed him, before you flattered and made empty love to his wife under the shadow of his house. You convinced her to join your bloody rebellion. Such a persuasive traitor. Yes, he trusted you. But he never trusted you enough for this."

Another ripple of Solas's power filled the room and slid harmlessly around the Nevarran. "Elgar'nan protects me, Wolf. He showed me this path to control, to finally cage you as he should have done all of those years ago. The elves turned away from him. They aren't worthy of his power. But I am. He's made me his vessel to forgive the ignorance of humanity." He smiled beatifically. "An Andraste, if you will. But I won't burn as she did."

Vestalus advanced on Solas, who looked as close to panic as he'd ever gotten. Cullen stood locked in place, head pounding. Solas had lied to him. Solas was a killer and a god. Or was Vestalus lying now? Who was the villain and who was the hero?

You're the hero, brother, said Darren's voice in his mind, and he clenched his fists against it.

"You unlocked the door to this place, Fen'Harel. A dozen of my fellows sacrificed themselves to gain the power to send me here, but the path is open. More will come, if I call. Between us, we'll match you. The mages will rise to power, as it is in Tevinter, as it should be in the world, and we will hold both life and death in our hands," said Vestalus. His voice was deepening, taking on the echoes of a lilting Elvhen accent. Cullen blinked as his face shifted from human to elf and back again.

He reached out to grab Solas's arm, and the elf swatted him away with the insubstantial staff. A barrier sprang between them, but it was weak and failing even as it appeared. Cole moved, trying to swipe Vestalus with his own dagger, but it glanced harmlessly away.

"Cullen," said Solas urgently. "Be ready. Catch the talisman when it falls. Please. It will save Ellana. I swear it on her life."

"Who are you?" whispered Cullen.

Solas smiled then, his first true smile since Lothering. "I'm her heart."

And that was true, and that decided him. He nodded. If a choice had to be made, he would trust Ellana. And Cassandra. He knew what they would say.

Vestalus was still trying to get through the barrier, his questing hand looking for the wolf's tooth necklace that hung from Solas's neck, but the elf grabbed it and bared his teeth in a feral grin. "You called me the last great soul to walk Thedas. You are more correct than you know. I am Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, the patron of rebellion, the one who fights for those who do not know how," he said. "But I am also Mythal, and she is the only protector worthy of the name."

A shudder ran through him as the feral look melted into something infinitely sadder. "I had hoped to never do this again," said Solas's lips, but the voice was the woman's that had come from nowhere. "Goodbye, husband."

Vestalus's flesh reddened under the hand on his wrist, and he screamed in great wailing breaths that twisted around them into sharp edges slicing into Cullen's soul. Cole knelt on the ground and covered his ears, and Cullen wondered if this is what the pain of another felt to him all the time. No wonder their words spilled out of him like blood from a wound. How much anguish had they asked him to endure in silence?

But it didn't matter because Vestalus was losing the talisman, and Cullen had promised to catch it when it fell. He fought through the ragged edges of the air to be ready, and when Vestalus's eyes rolled back into his head for the final time and his hand relaxed, Cullen grabbed the falling gold out in his outstretched hand. The hand with the burn, he realized with numb amusement.

And then it wasn't amusing because he was boiling and breaking underneath the weight of something too powerful to name. Solas was yelling something to Cole over the corpse of the mage, and Cullen's mind was as open as a cloudless sky. A woman's face filled it and pressed against his vision.

Ellana, he thought. Elven and beautiful, with eyes that were sad and happy in equal measures.

No, the woman's mouth said soundlessly. Mythal.

When Cullen came to he was on the stone floor of the temple cavern. But he was also in a spired city as white as Frostback snow, glowing with the light of gentle magic. Darkness and light alternated in his vision, and he whimpered as each blink brought a new image. The overwhelming feeling of lyrium ran through his blood once more, familiar and dangerous, and he wondered if he would die. Or worse, have to fight his way back to life once more.

"Shh, Commander," said Solas. The elf's hand was cool on his fevered brow. "Not much longer now. Sleep."

Am I possessed, he tried to say, but Solas's command washed through him. He slipped into the Fade.

Ellana paced the length of her chambers in Skyhold with a quick, harried step. The emerald gown she wore swished irritably. "Fix him," she said in her Inquisitor's voice.

"Vhenan," said Solas, "it may not be possible. His mind was too rigid to hold so much power. It shattered." He was transparent and distant at her desk, but his words came clearly through the room.

"Then put it back together." When Solas shook his head she stopped walking and glared. "Don't tell me you can't, Fen'Harel. You fixed me. You kept the anchor from consuming everything I am. A mind is nothing for you."

Cullen watched it all from the staircase and noticed with a start that her anchor wasn't there. Her hands were clean and unmarked. And more than that, she was strong and healthy once more. Seeing her this way, the way she'd been at the beginning, was heartbreaking. It had been so easy to overlook the weakness when it overtook her gradually, but now it was clear how much she'd all lost. How much they'd all lost.

They still hadn't noticed him, and Solas's voice was weary. "It will take time. Time you may not have."

"If I don't have time to save the people I love, what's the point of saving myself?" she asked softly.

Solas's shoulders slumped in defeat. "By your command," he said.

Ellana crossed the room and placed a hand to his cheek, her fingers resting against a curve that could barely be seen. "Thank you. I love you." Her lips brushed the air, and a sigh of contentment blew through the room before the elven man vanished.

"Cullen," he heard, and he looked up to see Ellana staring at him with a sad expression. "I'm sorry this is happening."

"What is happening?" he asked helplessly. "Who is Solas? Who are you? Where are we?"

Ellana sat on the bed and patted the place next to her. He joined her without moving, as though the moments of travel were lost in the cracks of his memory.

"Solas was right, you are a bad dreamer," she said with a touch of amusement. "This is the Fade. But a protected part, one he created to hold our minds when we sleep. There are no spirits here."

"One he created?"

"He manipulates the Fade well. He's had a lot of practice," she said. She held up her unblemished hand. "I'm only just learning to shape my wishes."

"Is the gown another wish?"

She looked down at herself, bemused. "Am I wearing a gown? I'm afraid you supplied that yourself," she said. A smile curved her face wickedly. "Solas never sees anything at all."

He blushed and looked away, which made her laugh. The sound of it squeezed his heart. It sounded so much like the real her, the woman he'd only gotten to know after he'd released the woman he'd wanted her to be. He hadn't had enough time to be her friend. Not nearly enough.

Cullen looked back at her, and she sobered quickly. She took his hand and rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. He closed his eyes. "What's happened?"

"When you took the amulet from the mage, you formed a conduit that pulled an ancient power inside of you," she said. "You weren't prepared for it, and your mind isn't suited to carry it. You aren't a mage."

"A power. You mean Mythal. One of the Elvhen gods." When she nodded, he ran his free hand through his hair and whispered, "I saw her, in my mind. She was me. And now I'm an abomination."

"No, Cullen. You're still you. The ancient elves aren't like spirits. They can't force their way inside or take away your mind. The host has to be willing," she said. "Solas is drawing the spirit back out of you and into himself. It will help."

"A willing host. Like Solas's body. Whoever he was before he became a monster."

Ellana gripped his fingers warningly. "Solas was a boy in a northern clan. They had too many mages and cast him out when he was only seven years old. He was lost and captured by an abusive man who hoped to control a mage. The boy prayed for the power to fight against him, and Fen'Harel answered. The Dread Wolf gifted him a talisman to hold his spirit and the wisdom to use it. He saved him."

"How is that any different from a blood mage who trades his body for power or riches or love or revenge? The spirit may have a different origin, but the results are the same. Corruption. Destruction. Death," said Cullen. "I've seen too much of this not to recognize it for what it is. Solas, or Fen'Harel, nearly killed us all with that orb. He's still killing you."

"He made a mistake," she said in hard tones. She was the Inquisitor again. "He's powerful, but he's not perfect. I wouldn't ask him to be. Do you think he doesn't know his mistakes? Why do you think he's so driven to fix this? To keep me alive?"

Cullen yanked his hand away and stood to pace. His mind was sharpening, slotting into place. Maybe Solas really was healing him. "You said Fen'Harel answered the boy. Where did Mythal come in?"

"Mythal found a living host centuries ago, a woman who wanted her protections and her longevity. Solas found her in turn three years ago, and Mythal came to him willingly."

"Because they were lovers. In ancient times." The knowledge was there, both learned and understood in the bones. A gift from the spirit, most likely. Still, somehow it was easier to believe that two spirits as old as the stars were walking the world than he would have expected. Maybe it was the influence of the Fade. Maybe he was simply exhausted.

Ellana frowned. "Yes."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"No. It was a long time ago. And soon it won't matter."

"What does that mean?" asked Cullen. His blood ran cold as a whisper of Mythal ran through the room. Not gone, not yet. And she knew what he would never have guessed. "You're going to become her. You're going to allow her to possess you."

"It's not possession. I told you. It's a partnership," she said stubbornly.

"How much of you do you think will be left when she makes her home inside of you, Ellana? How much of that scared little boy is left inside of Solas?" Cullen pivoted on the ball of his foot and strode forward to take her shoulders. "He's killing people. He sent Abelas and his men to their deaths on purpose. He knew exactly what he was doing, and what he was doing was murder. Because they were going to tell me about his seduction of Mythal and the beginning of the fall of the elves. Something I learned anyway, without their help. They died for nothing. Sacrificed to his paranoia."

She blinked up at him, but her face didn't give way. He tried to soften his voice. "I don't know what Solas was once, but right now he's a demon. His actions will only hurt the world. Hurt you. You can't do this."

Ellana wrenched away from his hands with a hiss. "He's not a demon. And you forget yourself, Commander. I'm the Inquisitor, and I don't take orders from you."

"Who do you take orders from? Him?" Another piece settled into place. "Cassandra told me about the bargain you struck in Mythal's temple, of the Well and the price it carried. Eternal subservience to Mythal. Cassandra thought it was nonsense, fealty to a dead goddess who might never have existed in the first place. But it wasn't, was it? You're bound to her will. Which means his will."

She made a noise of protest, but he was already continuing. "Solas controlled Abelas, too. The guardians bowed and scraped and died at his whim. When Solas called for silence in the temple, they never spoke again," he said. "He's controlling you the same way. You don't want this, Ellana."

"You have no idea what I want," she said. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and her hands shook as she stared at them. At the place the anchor usually lived. Her voice cracked and wavered as she whispered, "Is it so hard to believe that I want to live?"

His anger vanished. At his silence she looked back up at his face. "Maybe it is hard to believe, for you," she said. "You're a soldier. The best one I've ever known. You're not afraid of pain, or if you are you don't give into the fear. You take punishment, you suffer nobly, and you're strong enough to resist any temptation. Even the promise of life on the cusp of death." The tears spilled, then, and Cullen sat back on the bed and pulled her to his chest. She sobbed as her muffled words rose between them. "I'm not that strong. I'm not brave. I thought I would die a dozen times in the war, and it would have been worth it. To stop Corypheus and save the world. I would have done it, then. The whole point of my life was for it to end, in the right way. At the right time."

He stroked her hair and felt his own tears fall. Her words came faster and more desperately. "But I lived. Destiny was kinder to me than I ever dreamed. But to die now? Now that I finally have something to live for? I can't. I love him. I love you, and Leliana, and Josephine, and Cassandra, and all the rest and I don't want to leave you. I'm sorry to be so weak in front of you. I wish I was the leader you always believed I was. I wish I could be more like you, Cullen. I've tried to be."

"You're worth a thousand of me," he said firmly. He tried to laugh but it came out thready and weak. "Why do you think I'm trying so hard to save you?"

She pulled back and smiled through her tears. "I thought it was because Cassandra asked you to."

His heart stopped. "Does she know about this?"

"No," she said sadly. "They only know what we do will save my life. None of them know how."

"What if it's not your life anymore? What if this has all been a trick, by Fen'Harel and Mythal, to be with each other again?"

Mythal's faint anger touched his mind, but he threw it aside. He would ask his questions.

"It's a risk I have to take," she said quietly. "I trust in three things in this world. Solas's love for me, the Inquisition's power to do good, and you. I know that it may go wrong, but I have to believe in something."

Cullen knew how she felt, believing in something that was terrifyingly powerful and so easily lost. Like the Templars. Like the Inquisitor. Like Cassandra. They could harm and heal. But in the end there had to be a light somewhere in the world that steered them all. And he was one of hers.

"I'll be there when it happens," he said. "I'll make sure you're okay." Just like a Harrowing, he thought while his stomach clenched. If making sure she was okay meant killing the thing that took her away, he would do that, too.

She understood his meaning and didn't shy away from the threat. Instead, she pulled him into another hug, and he returned it as best he could with his shaking arms. After a minute she wriggled out of the circle of his arms to kiss him on the cheek and breathe a thank you. As she did, Solas appeared beside them, more substantial this time. He frowned at their intimate pose but only said, "It is done."

"What is?" asked Cullen.

"Your mind is restored to what it was. Whatever that's worth. You can return to your body now." He turned to Ellana and pulled her to her feet. His hand curled around her waist possessively as he leaned his forehead against hers. "I'll be there soon, vhenan."

He kissed her mouth with a thoroughness that left Ellana breathless and Cullen embarrassed. Before she could respond, the elf was gone once more. Cullen felt himself fading as well, but he kept his eyes steady on his friend's.

"I won't let you lose yourself," he said as the room around him darkened. "I promise, Ellana."

"I believe you," she said, and that was the last thing he heard as he fell out of the Fade.

He awoke again on the stone floor, but this time when he blinked the picture stayed the same. No more elven woman. No more crystal spires and clouds. Only Solas, kneeling above him with cold eyes.

"Thank you," said Cullen.

Solas didn't answer, only stared at him. The golden talisman rested in his open palm

Cullen sat up and rubbed his head. It ached slightly, and his stomach rumbled with bottomless hunger, but he at least felt complete and unified. Best of all, the feeling of lyrium flooding his veins was gone, and there was no craving replacing it. Not yet at least.

"Don't we need to get to Ellana?" he asked.

"Yes." Solas didn't move. He seemed to be waiting for something.

Cullen obliged him. "If you overwhelm her with this, if you cause her to forget who she is, I'll kill you," he said conversationally.

"I had the same thought about you, Commander." Solas's violet eyes were dark enough to be black. "Don't get in my way."

"I'll do what's right."

Solas barked a laugh. "As if your kind could ever know what that is," he said. He leaned closer and gripped Cullen's neck. "Remember that she wanted to save you. I would have left you to your madness, but she insisted you be healed. She risked herself to keep you whole."

Power slid through the elf's hand. Before Cullen could even think to fight, it had him sliding into blackness once more. A promise of a dreamless sleep, the Fade doors inexorably closed to his mind.

"Make sure you deserve it."